


The Drip Finally Stops

by tsukishimmy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.3 gave me depression, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal Spoilers, im never going to emotionally recover from this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25860406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukishimmy/pseuds/tsukishimmy
Summary: Everything must come to an end... the drip finally stops.
Kudos: 16





	The Drip Finally Stops

**Author's Note:**

> 5.3 spoilers (somewhat?) anyways i have depression from 5.3 and i finished it last night at 3am and i never wanted to cry more than i do rn.

What were they again? Dreams? Or, were they memories?

The flora and fauna seem so familiar yet so distant. The names of them on the tip of her tongue, yet so buried within the depths of her mind, she could not dig up the simplest of titles. It was agonizing, to feel so connected yet disconnected at the same time. To remember only to forget afterward. The name resonates within her... Azem. 

It reminds her of Azam. It bubbles forth despair to the forefront of her memories; of her sister laying sickly in her bed, unable to move or eat. Waiting for death. How helpless she felt then, watching the woman who loved her the most, the last reminder of her family and legacy, wither away. Did Azem’s heart ache like this? Did she cry in agony at the loss of her brethren - her people? Did she lose herself to despair, like Parizad had done countless times? 

“The answer is yes.”

She turns to where the voice comes from, and can’t help but smile. Though, her heart warns her not to let her wits go. This was not reality, not as far as she could tell.

“For once in my life, I am actually happy to see you,” was this her excitement, or Azem’s? 

“I aim to please,” Emet-Selch appeared as he did in her mind’s eye. The emperor of Garlemand. Though she had changed his appearance to have white hair. 

At the reminder of this, the ascian waves back a few strands of porcelain locks, giving the warrior a raised brow of suspicion. 

“One would say playing with your dreams and memories elicits a cause for concern. you could be dancing with psychosis,” he takes a strand between his fingers, examining it. “But this colour does flatter me.”

Parizad holds her own silver hair between her fingers, the memory of her once fiery locks nearly completely faded. "I suppose I wanted us to match… or a reminder to myself that you have changed, as have I."

"Are all your dreams this dull and depressing? If I am to be invited, I expect a show. _Some_ sort of entertainment." Ignoring Pari's glare, Emet continues to stroll through the gardens in his usual nonchalant gait. 

This may be her memories, but he seemed to have exerted his massive ego on this location as well. Normally she would have been annoyed; walked away from him so that her temper would not be further fanned. Now, she watches him walk, a small smile tugging on her lips.

"They're my way of saying my final goodbye to those who are most important to me," she continues to stroll, keeping her pace one step behind his. She was curious to see where he would go, in this lively, but fragmented Amaurot. "First it was Haucherfaunt… and then the rest. I was so afraid of losing them. Of our memories."

Pari's words had struck a chord within the Ascian, causing him to stop. A moment of silence passes between them before he finally speaks: "You feared to wake up one day and not remember their face, or the sound of their voice."

"I understood why you suffered, why you were so determined to bring the rejoining," she approaches him, standing by his side as she takes his hand into hers. "Losing the memory of those we love is the confirmation that they are not returning, and soon will be lost to oblivion."

He does not withdraw his hand from hers. Instead, he leads her, through the never-ending greenhouse of Amaurot. They walk in silence, Pari relishing in the company she could not bring herself to enjoy before. It was ironic, the man she had loathed, who brought her suffering and plotted her demise, now resting in the same place of those she loved and adored.

As time passes she can feel her grip on this feigned reality loosen. She would wake soon, to a world that needed her to fight. A world that needed her.

"I have to go soon," she stops mid-stride, her hand slipping from Emet's. "I hope you enjoy your accommodations." 

He plucks an unfamiliar flower from it's home, twisting the stem in his fingers to make the petals dance. "A belated invitation to this inaccurate garden," he flicks the flower onto the ground; no longer unfamiliar, it forms into a common flora of the Source. She could not help but scowl and roll her eyes; it had become second nature around Emet-Selch. "Nonetheless, I am pleased to have a place amongst those who hold closest to your heart. I have one question for you."

The world around her was losing focus, the garden becoming blurred. The flora and fauna around her were no longer unfamiliar, taking shape of things she knew the name of. The reality was slowly pouring into this dreamlike world and would drown it in a matter of minutes. She was not rushed. She would come back here during her darkest times; when the sorrow in her chest felt too heavy to carry. When despair awaited, fork, and knife, to eat her alive. Whenever she felt the tiredness catch up to her, grab on, and refuse to let go, she knew she would awaken here once more.

So when the world began to dissolve into nonexistence, and she stood in the white void with Emet-Selch, she did not feel rushed.

"Why did you invite me here now? Why invite me at all."

She watches him fade, his form disappearing as she begins to rouse from her slumber. She could not help the tears lining her bottom lashes, or the forced smile to hide her despair. This image was vivid, it was the last image she saw of him in the First. 

"Because I had only realized now that you were attempting to be my companion, my friend. I realize that now, long after you were gone. Despite our wishes being different, you still desired that, didn't you?" She does not wipe her tears, instead, she let them trail down her cheeks. " I wish things were different, Emet-Selch."

He is nearly all faded, the bittersweet smile she remembers from the end of their battle.

"I wish things had been different too, hero."


End file.
